


Pomegranates & Black Roses

by Liz_Med



Series: Hiatus [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Bellamione Cult Ilvermorny Cup, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Female Hades/Female Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Fluff and Angst, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 16:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20510285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz_Med/pseuds/Liz_Med
Summary: Almost every common version of her tale was wrong.Everything that she had done, and everything that she had yet to do, were choices made of her own volition. It hurt to find the tale of her love so tarnished and disregarded.But this is not the story of that revelation. Not yet, at least.





	Pomegranates & Black Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired and co-brainstormed by the lovely LuluArting and myself. The backbone is torn straight out of HP canon and Greek Mythology, both twisted to suit our own ends in telling this story. I cannot promise prompt updates, but hopefully this won't languish as we've thought it out quite a bit ahead. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Almost all, if not nearly every, common mortal retelling of her mythos had the story wrong. Each version was suspiciously similar to one another to the point where it seemed that as a group they had decided that not only would they record lies and exaggerations, but that they would actively destroy any remaining evidence of legitimate truth to her tale. Even many of the Gods and Goddesses that had remained alive throughout the intervening millennia seemed to have forgotten the truth of what had happened or were suddenly closing themselves off and pretending that they had never been aware. 

Even her own family seemed to have misconstrued the events in such a fashion that what it became labeled as was patently wrong. It  _ wasn’t _ a rape, and whoever had started that ridiculous moniker was going to be in for a world of hurt when she found their soul within the bowels of the earth. Everything that she had done, and everything she would do, were all choices made of her own volition. Her paramour had been nothing but frustratingly acquiescent and chivalrous throughout the entirety of their centuries long relationship. The realization of what had happened and how her story, one that should have been of love and understanding borne on the backs of relentless opposition, had been pulled and stripped apart to portray something utterly different was a sobering thought that brought her to tears and stripped apart some burning portion of her heart. It  _ hurt _ to find the tale of her love so tarnished.

At the very least the other Gods and Goddesses of the Pantheon seemed to relectantly agree that  _ she _ had been the one to first seek out the darkness that dwelled beneath their hallowed Mountain. She had been the one to crawl on hands and knees down twisted crevasses and through winding tunnels to reach the windswept and desolate lair of her mysterious lover. It went against her nature and her instincts but in the end there had been nothing for her to do but acquiesce to the insistent tug that pulled her in deeper.

But this is not the story of that revelation. Not yet, at least.

\---

The stunning visage of the woman had been her undoing from the moment that her honeyed eyes fell upon the mysterious and fleeting form. The Goddess was beauty and mystery wrapped tightly together into a beautiful form that outshone the night sky; a glittering diamond just begging for her to take hold. It had taken but a single second and a quick intake of breath for the woman to become her heart’s newfound obsession. The first glimpse she took was upon the steep and winding staircase that ascended the westerly side of Mount Olympus; a massively difficult engineering feat hand crafted by Heaphastus and lorded over by those many cults which served under his careful eye.

The stairs were nearly as wide she was tall, but not quite deep enough as to prevent easy upward travel, and had been crafted from star-metal pulled down from above the ceiling of their multi-colored heavens. Each and every step had been hand wrought and forged into iron-like blocks that would never once rust or tarnish no matter how many more millennia Zeus laid claim to the Mountain, and all under the watchful gaze of Hephaestus.

The stairs were flowed upwards in a pattern that started to the left and hooked around to double back in on itself while proceeding higher up the mountain, each twist and turn giving any ascendants the perfect view from which to look one level above them. Unfortunately the mountain so sheer as to shroud the remainder of the height in straight cliff-side, only giving view to the single incline above itself. It was there, halfway up and with no more than a half day of travel left, that her eyes alighted upon the form of the woman. Her pace was even and consistent enough to always keep her moving ahead at the same distance, her form always turning at the same moment as them and one tier up. 

The disadvantage of traveling with her mother, Demeter, meant she couldn’t sprint ahead as she so desired and greet this mysterious woman all on her own. Not that propriety would allow her to do so regardless, it simply would have been unbecoming of her to chase off after the woman. And so instead she’d needed to still the need to race forward on swift feet and content herself with remaining at her mother’s side, arm in arm, as they carried Demeter’s cornucopia laden with the fruits of this year’s harvest.

Even with the distance she was able to discern a few features, the manner of her dress being one of them. The woman had two horns that poked up above a wreath of raven black hair, which in and of itself wasn’t so much an odd sight among the many Gods and Goddesses of the Pantheon, but where each of  _ theirs  _ were ornamental or rolling with the accumulated ages of their strength and powers,  _ hers  _ were small and turned inwards. The white bone was no longer than the length of her fingers and curved up towards one another to end in what looked to be two wickedly sharp tips. They weren’t gaudy like Pan’s or Dionysus’, neither were they the natural horns of a bull or the antlers of a deer. They were, in her own honest opinion, as adorable a pair as she had ever seen. Just beneath those horns was the wrap of her hair, one long braid leading down to hang and sway beneath her neck. Upon her shoulders the woman also wore a pair of golden pauldrons that were capped in imitations to the horns upon her head, each in turn holding the clasp to a silver cape that swished out behind her from both movement and the wind, all atop a startlingly white toga that wrapped around her shoulders and hugged her backside until there was nothing left to leave to the imagination.

Even without this mysterious Goddess, and that was what she must have been as no Demi-God had ever once looked so lovely to her eyes, Persephone could feel a tightness to her breath that quickened with every beat of her now rapidly pacing heart. As she ascended she placed her free hand upon her chest to still the beating organ, to quiet it and still its frantic pace beneath the confines of her breast.  _ ‘Is this love,’ _ she questioned idly, wondering if one of Aphrodite's many cultists was playing a poorly aimed trick on her,  _ ‘Is this the wonder I’ve yet to hold?’ _

The crown of roses that sat wreathed around her head from front to back in stalks and petals was rapidly expanding and growing as it fed upon her emotions. In the flash of an instant it went from the blank slate of green leafage to the beginnings of roses that were just set to bloom. After another winding loop upwards the thorns began prickling against her brow at the same moment that buds finally blossomed into fully grown delights of magenta and wildflower yellow. Her mother, Zeus bless her immortal core, was none the wiser as she ascended; her mind made up that the happiness was at the thought of presenting Fealty to their Queen. And though it may have been half of it, as everyone who was anyone wanted to praise and renew their vows to Zeus, it wasn’t even a tenth of the reasoning behind her sudden plumage.

Eventually their long walk culminated in the evening of the steps as rising stairwell gave way to leveled walkways of iron and glittering gold. Here there were other Gods and Goddesses all mingling with one another as they prepared to enter the Palace that Zeus and her cohorts hailed as home. Unfortunately there was no sign of the mysterious woman to greet her eyes upon arrival, only the sudden flash of gray as she was admitted special entrance beyond the large palatial gates that barred the lower Gods and Goddesses until such a time as the hour was right. Horae took her time with opening up the haunting gates that would admit them passage, greeting each arrival in turn until every last one of them had assembled, an action that brought Persephone no small amount of impatience and set her foot to tapping rapidly against the metal walk. 

Eventually Horae called them all to attention and slowly opened the gates as she bid them welcome to the Palace of Zeus with a voice that glittered gold and caressed the mind. It was lovely, or should have been, but Persephone was of no mind to wait around any longer and hurriedly moved herself and her mother forward through the crowd. The gates glittered and shone like spun silk made from tears as they were pushed wide until the passage was safe for all to travel; the assemblages feet moving nearly as one as they awkwardly marched beneath the arched entranceway. No matter how many times Persephone followed this walk, having already managed it who knew exactly how many times before, she was still enraptured at the magnificent sight laid out before her. 

Pale white columns of concrete stood to either side of the hall, each ringed and etched with mirror images of the Gods own acts, rising higher and higher until they neared a patch of unmovable clouds that hid the ceiling of the archway from their view. The only way to tell that they were even inside the halls of the Palace was by the sudden dimming of Helios’ light and the resulting loss of his warmth, a factor mostly mitigated by the many sconces that lined the white walls of the hallway and burned with the passions of a million fires.

_ There! _

Far across the long hallway she managed to catch a quick flash of silvered material and gleaming horns, her heart immediately lurching at the sight. She pushed and jostled among the many Gods and Goddesses in front of her until finally angling off to the side so that she could pass by them unmolested. Demeter’s arm fell out of her grip at the same moment that her mother began crying out for her as she wandered further from the group, but she was too far gone to hear her as anything other than a fading whisper. She was fully of one mind and one purpose, dedicated to determining who it was that had caught her eye. The woman wasn’t known to her, she knew almost every single Goddess on sight and the proper and respectful forms that each would take to swear their Fealty, all except this one. No, this one was the enigma, the shadow, someone she’d never once seen before, and she’d be damned by the Fates themselves if she never saw her again. 

But by the time she arrived at the crossroads to the hall the mysterious stranger was gone, again.

\---

Though she searched for many hours she could not find again that fleeting image of the woman as neither hide nor hair of her was to be seen throughout the whole of the Palace. All the way from the front entrance to the center room where Zeus had taken residence upon her dais; the woman had well and truly disappeared. With a frustrated pout she’d turned to asking the others but none of the Gods or Goddesses knew who she was and stranger still none had seen any glimpse of her at all, all her questions turned away with silent frowns and hushed apologies. Her last hope, the only one she could still hold onto, was standing on a dais.

It was simple. Or so she thought.

Simple enough at the very least that at the first moment it entered her head it became the only thing left that she knew she could do. Without a name and without the deity’s Focus she would never be able to narrow it down completely. There were just so many of them now, from minor Goddesses just arrived to Demi-Gods that had taken their place as full fledged members only a month ago. Even if she went through them all one by one until the end of times the stars would fail before she was any closer to solving the mystery. 

And so it was that when Harmonia finally stepped down from the dais and resumed her place among her peers in the grounds outside the Palace she stood up and walked forward with back unbent and mind swirling with questions.

Questions that were almost immediately scattered to the winds when the glittering figure before her came into sharp relief. The Queen of the Gods was as beautiful as Gaia was Ancient, a magnificently striking figure that stood tall enough to look down upon her with barely concealed joy in her gaze. Her figure was wreathed entirely in light and brightness that clung to her form and lit her up as though lightning was dancing beneath her very skin to a tune no living being had ever understood. Her hair was a gorgeous wreath of silver and platinum that wound down from a braid to suddenly pull back up and twist to form a crown around her head. At even distances the crown of hair was pinned down into place with living bits of lightning, the ethereally glowing light shifting and shimmering as electricity crackled and ozone mixed with the sweet scent of Ambrosia. Zeus’s eyes were as clear as the Oceans were blue and each orb pierced her deep enough to let her feel the mind of the Titan-Born Goddess rove out across her soul. Of course the intensity was not outmatched by the pure love that shone outwards from the Goddess and Persephone could barely detect a slight crinkle of the corners of her eyes that denoted the mirth beneath her heavenly mask. If there was ever a Goddess that deserved her undying Fealty and submission, it was Zeus. If there was ever a Goddess that deserved undying reverence and adoration, it was Zeus.

And yet for the life of her she could still do nothing but think of the beautiful stranger.

“Persephone,” Zeus spoke with a voice that crackled with electricity, her head inclining as she pulled her forward into a customarily light kiss of greeting, “So good to see you up here once again.” Her eyes shone forth as she smiled and Persephone could feel the bountiful love and affection flow from her Queen and into her chest, suffusing her entirely in warmth that tingled and quickened her pulse. It wasn’t unlike the rush that had filled her upon seeing the stranger walking up the mountain but it was different enough that she could easily tell the two apart and never mistake one for the other. The strangers had been inviting like the lure of a Siren’s songs, something sharp and acrid that brought with it a desire for more. Zeus, however, left her feeling whole and warm; the love of good friendship and fraternity through similar discourse. “I take it that your trip went well? Demeter has had so very much to tell me about your recent travels.”

“Thank you, Zeus-”

Zeus waved a hand and interrupted her, “Please, let us dispense with the formalities. You may address me as Narcissa; I will address you as Hermione. Titles and Focus are for our time off this dais, here we are only friends.”

“Of course,” Hermione smiled brightly and nodded in acceptance, “Thank you Narcissa. I’m pleased to stand up with you once again, and pledge Fealty to you in all endeavors and matters of the Pantheon.”

“Thank you, dear,” she flashed another beautiful smile and pulled her closer conspiratorially, “You’re always welcome beneath my roof. A child of Demeter is a child of mine, regardless of your parentage. And now for what you’ve been waiting for, if your nervous disposition and constantly trembling limbs are anything for me to draw a conclusion on. You must have quite the request in return for such a valorous Fealty.”

Hermione could feel the moment her face flushed red with embarrassment, Narcissa simply drawing her closer and chuckling beneath her breath when she realized her discomfort. The shakes and tremors rolling under her skin halted as soon as she could consciously control them; her features schooled back into the warm mask her mother had instilled her with and heart steadied with a few calming breaths.

She readied herself by looking down at her own sandals before lifting her head and addressing the Goddess, “Yes, I have one single request. I would like to ask first that this remain between the two of us, as Goddesses, and please feel free to stop me if I overstep my bounds or tread upon an unwritten rule.”

Narcissa narrowed her eyes as blue lightning began sparking from a downturned eyebrow, “Of course, any words between us will remain here with us, and us alone. You may proceed.”

“T-there was a Goddess upon the steps, ahead of us enough that I could see her but not enough that I could make out who she was. She was unfamiliar to me,” she paused to search for the words, body shifting slightly upon the dais, “And though I caught glimpses of her when we reached the summit I could not find her among the assembly as she entered before us. She wore a brilliantly white tunic and a gray cape, and had two horns set atop a head of raven hair. I was wondering if you could tell me who that was.”

It took one second, maybe two at most, before Narcissa’s lips curled and her eyes shifted to peer out into the crowd standing below them. Hermione was immediately taken aback, her tremors returning as she silently wondered if she’d offended the all powerful Deity. It was almost so much of a turn in disposition that she’d suddenly wondered if it had been wise to approach  _ the _ Queen of the Gods with this question.

“I know the one of whom you speak,” Narcissa turned back to her and softened her features when she noticed Hermione’s clear trepidation, “She is my eldest sister. If I may ask; why do you have such a sudden interest in her? In all the many years that we’ve played this little game, not one has ever asked after her. You are the first, and I must say that it intrigues me to no end.”

Hermione’s first thought was to retract her statement, to lie and push it off as a slip of the mind; a question she’d rather rescind. But also in that moment she knew she could not turn her back on what her heart had felt upon seeing the Goddess, however brief and fleeting that glimpse had been. 

She gulped and wrung the fabric of her tunic while her eyes shifted up and away from the steely blue gaze of Narcissa’s eyes, “Well, I saw her during the ascent and the moment I laid eyes upon her I was struck with the most terrific feeling I’d ever had. Even more so than seeing what was once resigned to death bloom anew. I feel drawn to her in both body  _ and  _ mind. She was beautiful even if I could not see her face, and after seeing her from behind, I know there can only be the same radiance if I was to look her in the eyes. I suppose I…,” she wrung her hands and searched herself, “I just wanted a chance to do that, the see her that is, if only once.”

“I see,” Narcissa replied, her eyes leaving Hermione and once again roving across the crowd congregated at the base of the dais. “The one you seek is Bellatrix, though I do believe you’d know her by her Title.”

Hermione swallowed nervously as she awaited Narcissa to continue, mind hanging on to the Goddess's words as though she would drown if she let go.

“Her name is Hades.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like Bellamione? https://discord.gg/pcfMU4F come on in and join the server!


End file.
